I Am Not Your Waitress
My fiancé and I met at university, many many miles away from his home city. We were in some of the same classes, and romance blossomed.
We’d been a couple for a few months when he said that his parents were coming to see him and wanted to meet me as well.
The plan was for us to all go out for dinner together the evening they arrived, however my boyfriend had an unmissable meeting scheduled just before we were meant to be leaving.
We decided that I’d go ahead and meet them alone (and be interrogated…) and my boyfriend would try to hurry up the meeting and go straight to the restaurant from there.
I caught the bus into town, however it was just my luck that it broke down halfway through the journey, meaning that I was about 15 minutes behind schedule.
I caught my boyfriend just before his meeting to tell him, and he passed on the message to his parents, who replied almost instantly saying that they were already in the restaurant, and gave the location of their table so I could just join them when I got there.
This restaurant was fancy-ish—you’d definitely wear smart-casual clothing to dine there, and staff were all in similar dress of white shirt/blouse, pressed trousers and smart shoes.
I was wearing the smartest dress I had that which was a dark red, definitely not uniform. I get there 10ish-minutes late and a little bit sweaty and out of breath, and spotted my boyfriend’s parents (I’d seen pictures of them so I knew what they looked like) sitting on a table.
I put on a “don’t let them know you’re nervous” smile and walked over there.
I say, “Hi there, sorry I’m late, it’s lovely to meet you.” My mother-in-law goes: “Oh, someone’s already taken our drinks order, we’ll be ready to order food when the rest of our party gets here.” I reply, “I’m not your waitress, I’m [my name], [fiancé’s name]’s girlfriend.
Sorry for being late.” My poor future mother-in-law turned the colour of my red dress.
She apologized for a good two minutes while my future father in law had a fit of the giggles.